Picking Up the Pieces
by linnell
Summary: Rent fic... Center's around Mark and how he deals with his friends... please r/r
1. Default Chapter

Ok, it has been a while for me… but all this rentfic going up, I was inspired. These guys belong to J.Larson, I don't take any credit at all. 

"Well, I wouldn't have made a good heroin addict." I smirk at the nurse who is slapping the inside of my elbow to draw up a vein. She glares at me, not seeing the humor in my joke. I guess it wasn't very funny. She finally finds one and inserts the needle and begins to drain me of my blood. 

I lie on the table still. No one I know is around me, and for the first time since it happened, I can relax. Again, the irony that it takes a needle in my arm to make me relax isn't lost on me. I close my eyes tightly, and try to remember a time in my life when things weren't so complicated. Like a time machine, I move backward throughout the past few years of my life, seeing images, moving and still, of the drama and chaos that encircle my daily life. Flashes of my friends, fighting, making up, hospitals, funerals and lots of tears, though very few shed by me. Soon, the flashes move past my friends to my family and Scarsdale and high school. Truth told, my life has always been complicated.

But I was able to handle things before. Before I was old enough to really realize that life was complicated, I discovered my parent's old camera in the attic. My sister Cindy and I would film horror movies in the backyard, wasting hours a day. Even when we weren't making movies, I always had the camera, and I always had it on. So when my father came home and told us he had fallen in love with another woman, I already knew how to step aside and observe, and because I was forgotten, I got the whole thing on film. 

I have hidden behind this small piece of machinery for almost ten years now. I have forgotten how to have confrontations. Standing to the side, capturing it on film, that is how I deal with the drama that is my life, or specifically, my friends lives. Because of the camera, I don't have to digest what is happening. I can stand by and observe, and later go back and watch it unfold, over and over again.

Except that Roger won't let me. He is the only one who never forgets me in the shadows. All the years I have known him, he has never put up with my bullshit. Even from the first day we met. I was walking through Greenwich Village, camera poised in front of me, not really paying attention to where I was going. I was looking down into the eyepiece when I walked straight into him. I still don't know why he didn't see me coming, but there I was, much smaller than this pierced, tattooed punk, stammering away apologies. He gave me a sharp shove into the wall and for a second I thought he was going to pound my ass. But he stopped short, fist mid-air, and he pulled away. He asked me what the fuck I was doing, and I stuttered away, like some poor imitation of Woody Allen. He told me to put the camera away and pay more attention to life. He has been telling me that ever since.

We didn't become close friends instantly after that. But a few days later, I was having coffee outside a café and he walked by. Again, I was looking down into the camera, filming some pigeons on the sidewalk. Suddenly a deep voice buzzed into my ear, "Didn't I tell you to put the camera away, filmboy?" I looked up and there he was and again I stumbled over some excuse and he just laughed and sat down. He introduced himself and started asking me questions about film and about myself. Our conversation came easy and before we realized it, the waitress was kicking us out of the table.

From then on, I don't really remember what happened, or how our little family grew so fast. I knew Benny from school, and he knew Collins from somewhere. Roger met April at a club, and Maureen was her best friend. Before long, there was little time that we weren't hanging out with each other, and soon we all moved into the loft. 

A nurse interrupts my thoughts. She tells me I am all done, unhooks me from the needle and walks me over for some juice and cookies. I laugh at the coddling, but a bigger part of me really enjoys it. It keeps my mind off of why I am here. I take a deep breath as I leave the blood center and head back to Roger's room. 

After all this time, after everything we have been through, I just cannot believe that Roger would resort to this. Attempting suicide… slitting his wrist… why would he? He hasn't answered any of our questions, or offered any explanations. I honestly haven't been asking, it has been Mimi and Collins who are trying to get answers. I just sit in the corner of the room and wait for him to talk. I know him, I know when we are alone he will share with me. More than he will share with Mimi, and I know that breaks her heart. 

I step out of the elevator and I instantly hear someone call me. Collins. They are all sitting in the lobby, talking quietly. Maureen and Joanne have arrived and I am told that Benny is on his way. It is explained to me that Roger is talking with a psychiatrist, which is mandatory in all suicide attempt cases. I shake my head, Roger doesn't need a psychiatrist, he needs his friends, he needs me. 

The shrink leaves his room and we all stand up to enter, but the nurse tells us one at a time. Mimi and I both step forward, oops. I sit back down and wait for my turn. Collins is pacing, Maureen and Joanne are whispering to each other, and again, no one is bothering with me. Finally after what seems like hours, Mimi comes out and I get a chance to talk to him.

I knock on the door, and he turns to look my way. He really doesn't look bad, his wrists are bandaged but that is all.

"Hey Mark." His voice is barely a whisper.

"Hey." I sit down next to the bed, not really sure what to say. "So, are you feeling ok?" Dumb question.

"Well, I could be better." He attempts at a joke and gives me a smile.

"You could be dead!" My voice raises higher than I expected it to. "What the fuck were you thinking? What is going on with you?" I stand up over the bed, waiting and demanding an answer.

"Mark, sit the fuck down. I don't need your shit." His voice is a little louder than before too. A nurse walks by and asks us if everything is all right. I tell her it is fine and she tells me not to upset him. 

Still standing I say to him, a little more calmly, "Why did you do this? I need to know."

"For a lot of reasons, things you couldn't possibly understand." 

I don't respond and wait for him to continue.

"I am just tired, and I am sick, and I know it is only going to get worse, and I don't want to go through it."

"Roger, you know you can fight this thing. You are really healthy, you are the healthiest out of the bunch."

He just shakes his head. "No, that is not what I mean, well it is, but it isn't."

"What do you mean then?"

"Never mind, don't worry about it, it will not happen again." He looks down at his bandages, "It fucking hurts." 

"I bet. And I will worry about it. I can't believe you would do this, to me, to Mimi."

"I've already heard it from her, ok?" He closes his eyes and grimaces in pain.

"Well, there are a few more people outside waiting to make you listen to them too. You know how much we need you, why would you want to leave us?" 

He shakes his head, "I'm done talking about this with you, ok? Just drop it Mark."  
"Fine, fuck you then." I don't know exactly why, but that was my breaking point. I turn around and walk out of the room and head straight for the elevators. Collins comes running up to me while I am waiting.

"Mark, what happened?"  
I just shake my head and savor the anger that is filling inside me. The elevator door opens and I step on. "I'm done, I can't take it anymore." The doors shut and Collins' frame is out of my sight. 


	2. Running

The phone rings three times, and the answering machine picks up. My own voice with his floods my ears, _"SPEAK!"_ I'm about to hang up when I here, "Hello?" It is Roger. I stay silent. "Hello? Mark, is that you?" I hang up the phone. Well at least I know he is home, I can stop worrying now. I laugh at myself, knowing full well that I will still worry.

It has been a week, well six days to be exact, since I walked out the hospital. I walked to Penn Station and bought a ticket to Providence. I sat by myself on the train and allowed myself to mourn my life and what I was giving up. I allowed myself to cry. But I told myself, once I got off that train, I wouldn't look back. The train reached Providence much sooner than I was ready for. 

Since I have been here, I found a job working at Starbucks and I am staying with the guy who hired me. A little humiliating, but I needed something. Plus it is right on Thayer Street, which borders the art school, RISD and Brown University, so a lot of creative people are around. The only problem is, every time I turn around, I think I see Roger or Collins, or even Angel. I try and push thoughts of them away, but it is seemingly impossible. Especially the nagging feeling I had, not knowing if Roger was ok. 

I've considered calling Collins and letting him know I am ok, but every time I pick up the phone, I hang up. I don't know why exactly, except that I don't want to explain myself, because I don't have an explanation. I just had enough and truth is, I'm embarrassed. This is so unlike me, usually I am the one able to hold together, and Roger is the one to flee. The phone ringing breaks my thoughts. The guy I'm staying with is in the shower, so I answer the phone.

"Mark?" Shit, *69, why didn't I think of that?

"Yeah, it is me. How are you feeling?"

"Where are you? 401 area code? " His voice sounds tired, but not angry.

"Rhode Island, Providence…" I let my voice trail off.

"Oh…" Awkward silence… "Are you coming home?"

I close my eyes tight and try to find the strength, but the strength for what I am not sure of. "I don't know."

He stays silent for a few more seconds, "Well the hell with you then…" 

And just before he hangs up the phone, "Roger, wait! 

I can tell he didn't hang up, but he still isn't saying anything. "Are you ok?"

"I've been better. But Mimi and Collins are taking good care of me. I got out of the hospital the other day, and they haven't left me alone for a second."

I smile, in spite of myself, "Well good, I knew they would."

"It's not the same though…" His voice is soft, "Mark, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for driving you away, please come back."

I shake my head, not thinking that he can't see me. "No, I can't. Look, I got to go, if you need something, just call, ok?" I hang up the phone and stare at it, aching for it to ring again. Which it never does.


	3. Reaction

The dial tones buzzes in my ears for a few seconds.

"Is he coming home? Where is he? Let me talk to him…" I vaguely hear Mimi's voice but feel her tug at my arm for the phone. I hand it over to her, walk across the small room and grab my guitar and begin strumming chords. "Roger, he hung up. Roger… ROGER!" I look up at her finally.

"Fuck him, that is all I have to say. I don't want to talk about it anymore." I look back down at the guitar and pretend to concentrate, but really I am thinking about his last words to me, '_if you need something, just call, ok?' _I was under the impression that was what I was doing. Mimi comes over sits down next to me.

"Where is he?" When I don't answer her she continues, "Roger, he is my friend too, and I deserve to know where he is."

"He's not your friend… he's none of our friends." I try to conceal the anger in my voice but I am unable to. "Friends don't take off when the going gets tough." She starts laughing. Not hard, but a few chuckles. "What?"

"Two words for you Roger. Santa. Fe."

"That was different."

"How?" She takes the guitar from me. "Tell me how that was different, I really want to know."

"You and I weren't together, I didn't have a band, there was no reason for me to stay." I reach for my guitar again but she pulls it away from me.

"Well, Mark doesn't have a girlfriend, or a band, or a job here, what reason did he have to stay?"

I look at her crossly, "Yeah, yeah, I get it, I should have stayed for him, but still this is different. I was in the hospital, and he just left. He said, 'Fuck you' and left," I hop off the table and go over to Mimi, "anyway, it doesn't matter, he doesn't matter." I lean in to kiss her but she backs away.

"Of course he matters, he is your best friend. Now tell me where he is!"

"Fine, Providence, Rhode Island. That is all I know. And he isn't my best friend. I'm too old to have a best friend."

"Baby, you know that isn't true. Listen, whatever it was that made him leave, I'm sure he will get over it. He loves you too much, he loves all of us. He just needs some time away, I promise you, he will come back."  
"Well, I don't want him back, let him stay in Providence…" Suddenly a loud booming voice interrupts me. 

"Anyone home?"  
"Yeah Collins, come in." I push myself up on the table and whisper to Mimi, "end of discussion." She gives me a look to let me know that this isn't the end of it.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" His arms of full with a couple of brown paper grocery bags. He puts them on the table. "Did a little shopping." I go to peak through, but he pulls them away. "Wait a minute. I'm going to cook dinner, and it is going to be a surprise. I called Maureen and Joanne, and they will be joining us, Benny had some obligation in Westport he couldn't get out of, so it will just be the five of us." He starts unpacking the bags, but looks up, "That is unless of course… well I can see by your expression, no." 

"We aren't talking about it." I try and make my voice stern but Mimi ignores me.

"Roger just talked to him, he is in Providence. He said isn't coming back." I pick at my guitar, pretending to ignore the conversation going on.

"Oh Mark will be back, he just needs some space. Don't you even worry about it." Collins comes over to me and pats me on the shoulder. I pull away and turn from him.

"I don't care, really. And you shouldn't either, we don't deserve a friend like that."

"Hey, I do care, and I know you do too. I miss the guy, it isn't the same without him, but we can't force him to come home. He has to arrive at that decision on his own. Just like you did when you went to Santa Fe."  
"Why does everyone keep bringing that up? They are two entirely different scenarios."

"No, Roger, they are exactly the same. Don't worry, he will be back." He goes back to the kitchen and pulls out assorted vegetables and other food. "But for now, get over here and chop this onion." He gives me a half grin and I smile back. 

Maybe Mimi and Collins are right, maybe he just needs time. The only thing I know is that this loft is a lot lonelier without Mark here. I miss the guy's camera in my face all the time or the way he would bound up the stairs. I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to get rid of the memories.

-------

More coming very soon, please review and let me know what you like and what you don't like. Thanks!


	4. Realization

__

Hey Collins, It's Mark… Can you believe I finally got around to getting an email account? I am sure Roger told you that I am now living in Providence. Things are going great here, I have a great job and I am doing a lot of great filming. 

I reread what I wrote, how many times can I use the word great? Collins will see right through it. I try again.

__

Collins, hey how are things going in New York? Are you taking care of everything and everyone? I know that is usually my job, but I just needed to retire. I don't know exactly why or how, but that day in the hospital was my breaking point. I don't think I can take anymore. I really hope you aren't upset with me for leaving, I know in your heart you understand. Please try and make Roger understand. I love all of you so much, it is just…

I hit the delete key, way too much information there. I just need to say what I have to say. A third try:

__

Collins- I'm sitting in the Providence library using their computers. I finally got around to getting an email account, so if you need to get in touch with me, this is probably the best way. I think I moving out of the place I am staying, the guy is my boss and it is a little strange. I will be there for a couple more weeks, so could you please send me some of my stuff? I need some more clothes, and under my bed there is a stack of old film. If you could ship them to me I would really appreciate. Say hi to everyone for me, ok? Love, Mark.

Before I can delete it, I hit the SEND button and as soon as I do, I regret it. Well, what is done is done. I gather my stuff, what little I have and wander around the library, grazing the long aisles, staring at the old titles. My head is pounding and has been for days and I can't figure out why. The guy I am staying with asked me to leave. I don't have enough money for rent and he wants to find a real roommate. So in a couple of weeks I will be homeless, unless I find some other person to shack up with. 

Of course, I know I have a home. But it is one that I can't return to. I cannot face Roger after what I did, after leaving him like that. He will never forgive me, and I will never forgive myself. Embarrassment is what is keeping me here. I hate myself for acting the way I did. Running away, that is Roger's way of dealing with things, not mine. I go over to the magazines and start thumbing through last month's issue of _Rolling Stone_. I have no place to be, and no one is expecting me. It is an odd feeling, a feeling of solitude that I had never really understood before. Even when everyone was coupled with someone, except for me, and I felt so alone, I really wasn't. They all wanted me around, they all cared about what I was doing. There was no way I could ever spend a day in the library without someone asking me where I had been. But here, there is no one to ask.

I wander around a bit more and find myself back at the computers. There is no way he could have written back so fast, but I find myself going to check anyway. I log in and wait. I'm surprised when the computer tells me I have one new message.

__

Mark- Great to hear from you, though the method is a little surprising, glad to know you finally joined the times. But enough of the small talk, Mark, I will get right to it. I will not send you your stuff. You need to come back here and talk to us, explain why you left. We all miss you and care. Roger isn't doing so well with the whole thing, he won't admit that he misses you. I think you both owe each other explanations. I told him that you will come home on your own, but it has been almost two weeks now. I never expected you to be gone this long. So, I will make a deal with you, I have some extra money, I will send you some for a train ticket. You can come back, talk to us, and explain to us what is going on in that head of yours. If you still want to leave, I will buy you a ticket back. Is it a deal? Yours-Tom Collins.

I read the message over and over until I have it memorized. I don't know how to react, and I don't know how to reply. My gut is telling me to get on a train today and go home, explain everything, and beg for them all to forgive me. My head is telling me to stay, that I don't need the melodrama in my life anymore. I don't need to watch my friends die, whether by disease or by their own choice. I can't deal with losing someone else.

And that is when it hits me, the real reason why I left. Roger wanted to die, he didn't want to fight anymore. So why the hell was I fighting for him? If he wanted to give up, I had to as well. But Roger isn't the only one who I care about, and he isn't the only one I'm fighting for. Mimi, Collins, they both need me, and so does Maureen and Joanne. Even Benny has called me a few times to go for coffee and talk about things. My friends are my family, and I can't leave them no matter how many miles I put between us. 

__

Collins- I'll be on the next train home. Meet me at the loft, I'll see you tonight. 

SEND

---- Still not finished… please review some more… thanks!


	5. Resolution

I step out onto the street, and take a deep breath. New York City, I didn't realize how much I missed it until I came back. The noise, the smell, the buildings, the grayness, it is all so familiar and welcoming to me. I walk over to a bus stop and wait, looking up at the tall buildings as if I was a tourist seeing them for the first time. 

On the bus, I sit by the window and watch the storefronts and people and cars go by. I know this route by heart, but yet the familiarity of it feels strange. I was only gone for two weeks, how come I feel so different? One thing is this nagging ache in my stomach, fear, I suppose. I am terrified to face my friends, particularly Roger. I can only anticipate his reception of me, and I know it is not going to be welcoming.

The bus drops me off a few blocks away from our loft and I walk slowly toward the building. Upon entering, I debate on whether I should knock or just walk in, so I do a combination of the two. "Hello?"

"Mark!" Mimi comes running over to me and wraps her thin arms around me. I pick her up and start spinning her around. "How are you? Are you home for good?"

"Uh, let's see, I'm good, and I don't know. You look fantastic." And I meant it, because like New York, I didn't know how much I missed my friends until I came back. The aches in my stomach, the headache I have had for two weeks, magically disappear. "Where is everyone?" I peak over her shoulder only to see a bedroom door close. "Oh."

"Oh Mark, don't mind him, he's thrilled you are back, it just wouldn't be him to let you off the hook." She grabs my hand and pulls me into the room, "We missed you,. even him, especially him." She nods toward the bedroom. I smile at her, thrilled to be with someone who knows and cares about me. I think to the emptiness and loneliness I felt in Providence, I never want to feel that again.

"So, how is he doing?" I face grows serious, as does Mimi's.

"He's been better, he still won't really talk to anyone about why he tried to… well you know." I nod, waiting for her to go on. "He has just seemed so angry and closed off. He won't let anyone in, you know? He has hardly smiled and… oh Mark, I don't want you feeling guilty." I guess she noticed the look on my face, I just nod to tell her to continue. "You two need to talk, I think that is what he needs."

"I tried to talk to him at the hospital, but he wouldn't. He told me to drop it, that he was done talking about it with me." Quick memories of the hospital room flashes into my head, but I close my eyes and physically shake them away. "Mimi, for whatever reason, I just didn't feel strong enough to fight him anymore. I did not want to go through what we did after April died, and I couldn't believe he wanted to give up like she did." 

"Well no one asked you too." Roger's voice interrupts the short silence left after my last statement. I look over to him and stand, smoothing out my clothes and trying to fix my hair. These unconscience movements preoccupy me for a few seconds while I try to figure out what to say.

"Hey Roger." Brilliant.

He just turns around and starts heading back to the bedroom but Mimi goes to him and stops him. "Roger baby, listen to what he has to say." She pulls him over to the couch and sits him down. "I'm going for a walk, I'll be back in thirty minutes to make sure everyone is alright." She kisses Roger's cheek and then mine, "Be good to each other, remember you are best friends." Roger scoffs at her back as she leaves the loft.

We remain silent, each of us for our own reasons. Roger, because he is stubborn and me because I'm scared. Roger gets involved in folding and unfolding a piece of paper and I sit playing with the zipper on my overnight bag. Minutes go by and I grow frightened that Mimi was going to come back and we weren't going to have said anything. 

I take a deep breath, "Are you feeling better?" He shrugs. "Ok… Is there something you want to say to me?"

"Not really…"

"Oh, ok then. Well, I'll start I guess. I don't know how much you heard me telling Mimi, but I…"

"…I heard enough." He still won't look at me.

"Well do you understand? Do you understand why I left?"

"Yeah, because you are a shithead that can't deal with real life, so you run off when things get a little tough."

"No Roger, that would be you." He now looks at me as bounds off the sofa and charges towards me. His face is inches from mine.

"Fuck you, filmboy. Who is the one that took off when his supposed best friend was in the hospital…"

  
"…Because he put himself there!" I yell right back at him, trying to hold my composure, but losing the battle.

"Well do you know why? Do you know why I put myself there?" He backs up a few inches and takes a deep breath. "Forget it." He turns his back to me.

"No, I won't forget it, tell me." I go up to him and place my hand on his shoulder. He pulls away from me.

"No, you lost all privileges when you left. I needed you and you weren't there. Good old dependable Mark Cohen, always there when you need him!"

"Roger, let me explain." He holds up his hand to me.

"Don't bother, I know. You couldn't handle it, you were angry, you wanted to give me a taste of my own medicine…"

"…Huh? Taste of your own medicine? What the hell do you mean by that?"

His voice is a little calmer now, "Oh you know, the way I took off to Santa Fe after Angel's funeral, leaving you alone to deal with things by yourself."

"That wasn't what I was doing at all. I just needed time and distance. I felt so deep and involved in your life, that I couldn't have been any help to you. I was hurt that you wanted to die, which I guess was selfish of me."

"Well, me trying to commit suicide was pretty selfish." He voice is soft. I just nod to him.

"When you wouldn't offer me an explanation… I _needed_ an explanation, because I couldn't find any myself. You seemed to be doing ok, and it just came out of nowhere. I didn't know how to process it at all.  


"I didn't mean to hurt you, or Mimi, or Collins. I just… I couldn't stand the thought of watching them get sick, or having you watch me get sick. I just… I don't know, I had been thinking a lot about April and Angel, about what is what like to lose them. I mean, yeah, it was hard for me when April died, but watching Collins suffer along with Angel, I didn't want that for Mimi… or you."

"But Roger, don't you see a difference? You didn't leave the house for six months after April killed herself, Collins was able to say good-bye to Angel and move on with life. Yes, he hurts, yes his heart broke, but he was able to say good-bye. You tried to take that ability away from us."

"I had it justified in my head, it made a lot of sense." I just nod to him. "I'm sorry I drove you away."

"I'm sorry I let you." 

"I just never pictured my life like this, you know?"

"I know, trust me I know." I smile at him and he smiles back and silence takes over the room again, but this one is more of the comfortable kind.

------- Please review, I like to know what you like and didn't… if I should continue or if this is a good end…. Thanks!


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